Mary

Has anyone noticed that Mary is smiling in EVERY picture we took of her in India?

There may be one, but I have not seen a single picture without a smile.......

Photos

Many thanks to those of you who have posted to Smug Mug- opening each of your photo files is like a gift- reliving India through your eyes.

Bruce and I spent last night and this morning trying to figure out how to edit video from my Android phone. There are many considerations...nice to have an IT guy in the house. We think we have the general steps figured out now, and our goal will be to edit a 15 minute video together from our video and still photos, using some of your photos as well. When we are done, hopefully by the time we meet in late January, we'll post it here if we can, and also on You Tube and on Smug Mug, if Alignment Yoga will open the back door to let us post it. It will not be done in two weeks, that is for certain.

We hope you are all enjoying the sparkling crisp Wisconsin winter- we are off to Cross country ski now.

Best

B and B

Chai Masala

Hello All,

I've received a few requests for a good chai recipe. This comes with good reviews - it's the family recipe of BKS Iyengar.

The first step is to mix together the spices. I generally make up a big jar of spices that I use over the next month or so. If you're really ambitious to have the ultimate cup of chai, grind the spices immediately before preparing the chai! The proportions are:

Ground cloves - 1 part
Ground cinnamon - 1 part
Ground black pepper - 1 part
Ground cardamon - 2 parts
Ground ginger - 2 parts

Once you have the spices prepared, bring water to a boil in a sauce pan. Add all the other ingredients. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for a few minutes. Then turn off the heat, and allow the chai to steep, covered, for a little longer. Strain and serve with sugar (don't be shy about sweetening - that's the secret to the really good chai!)

Overall proportions:
Water - 2/3 of total liquid
Milk - 1/3 of total liquid
Loose black tea - 1 rounded tsp. per cup of liquid
Spice mix - 1/3-1/2 tsp per 3-4 cup of liquid
Sugar - to taste (1-2 tsp. per cup)

Happy Chai-ing!

-Scott

Update on Dawa

Hello all,

I spoke with Dawa, our guide from india, today. He said when we parted he left the airport and went back to the hotel and just *looked* at our picture from the Taj for a long time. He also had a cold and it took him several days to get over it. In fact, he left a message on Saturday and I barely recognized his voice! But today he sounds like the same cheerful Dawa we know.

He plans to move to a new place over the next few weeks, so the address on his card will not be valid. In the meantime, we can send things along to Middle Path travels in his care if we have anything for him. The address is listed below.

Dawa enrolled in English class this week to better prepare for our visit next year, and he will be starting a 6-week course in January. If he likes the school, he will continue. Otherwise he will select another school. He also plans to get an email account this week and will send us his new postal address soon.

Please be advised when sending things to India, many or all get opened and searched. If you send money, it will be taken by those folks searching. Dawa has a very small space -- one room with shared bath. So please plan accordingly if you send a care package.

Many of you have expressed interest in helping to bring Dawa over for a visit. I feel it is important to have him over here for a meeting to plan our 2011 trip and to more deeply orient him to Alignment Yoga principles. I have added writing a letter (so he can get a visa) to my project list and will keep you up to date as we progress.

You can use the following to contact Middle Path for your own travel needs. Please let them know Pema and Scott referred you.

Middlepath Travels (P) LTD.
G-8, 209, Plaza II,
Masjid Moth South Ext. II
New Delhi-49
Phone# 91-11-46076491/93/94/95/96
Fax# 91-11-46076492
After office hours call us at 9818728445 / 9958383369 / 0901374093
skype:middlepathtravels

Pema

Photos on Facebook

Hello AY India Travelers,

I hope you are all doing well, recovering from Jet Lag and integrating our wonderful trip to India. I am uploading my India photos to my Facebook account but thought I should check to see if anyone has an objection to having their picture being posted. I did already post a few but I certainly can remove them if anyone would prefer not to have their picture on Facebook.

I was also wondering if we were going to establish a common photo site for people to upload and share photos from the trip.

Thanks,
Mindy

_______

Mindy this is pema answering direct in your post. Jugney is setting up an account today and I will email the info out as soon as I have it.

Donna's posts.....

Donna just added some lovely posts. They were written during the trip, so I integrated them into the blog chronologically for the benefit of new readers. But if you have been reading all along, you may want to scroll down and click on her name in the right column. It will show you all of her posts. Read the oldest ones first for a wonderful narrative of the trip.

Snake Charmer

A snake charmer on our way to the Hawa Mahal in Jaipur. They wanted 500 rupees (about $11) for this photo (even though I took it myself) and we settled on 50 rupees (about $1). Ah India....

We are home

Last India post

This will probably be my last post from India, since we are leaving very early tomorrow for Agra and the Taj Mahal. We spend the day in Agra and then take the train back to Delhi for our last night. Friday we are in Delhi and that night (actually early the next morning) we leave for the US.

I wanted to apologize if I've given the impression that I'm having a bad time on this trip. There have definitely been hard times on this trip but there is a satisfaction in making it through hard times (not the least of which are the great stories) - almost like testing yourself against forces much stronger than you and learning how to survive and find some joy in the outcomes.

Madison and the US are easy places to live, despite the cold, snow and minor life challenges. Here in India, every day that people feed their families some decent protein, find clean water to drink, wash their clothes and dry them without having them soiled by the smog, and move around the city without being hit by a tuk tuk (auto rickshaw), a motorcycle, car or truck is a huge triumph. Indians earn merit points every day that they stay alive and thrive amid the trash, press of people, dirty air and other challenges. No wonder the Hindus worship Lord Ganesh (the elephant god)... he is the remover of barriers and India has many barriers. So yes, it has been hard. Am I glad I came? You betcha!

I want to share with you the highlight of last night - the opportunity to watch a wedding procession pass by our hotel. November and December are the wedding season in India. The days are cooler and the humidity is lower, so the brides can actually use make-up without it sliding off onto their saris. Last night we left our dinners and ran to the sidewalk to watch a wedding procession where the groom was riding an elephant ( with his father behind him), ahead of him were 40-50 people dancing in the street, with women dressed in beautiful gold and scarlet saris and their men in black suits. Ahead of the dancers were musicians including drummers, flute players and men playing a stringed instrument that I've never seen/heard before. The entire procession was surrounded by men carrying huge electric chandeliers strung together with electrical cables and perched on their shoulders to light the way. Bringing up the rear was a poor man pulling a wooden cart laden with an enormous diesel generator used to power the lights. The procession moved very slowly, giving the dancers time to 'strut their stuff' and making the groom look very impatient. The procession was to end at the home of the bride where she would join him on the elephant and the 2 of them would be carried to a nice hotel for dinner and their wedding night. Quite a show!

The other minor highlight has been using public transportation to make our way around Jaipur. The cheapest and most available form of public transportation are the tuk tuks - three wheeled auto rickshaws, driven by Indian men, that make their way through thick, unfriendly traffic with very few crashes and fatalities (at least we haven't seen any yet). They look like 3 wheeled golf carts and move about as fast. The hardest part is having to wear our filtration masks everywhere. (I wouldn't leave for India without one - it makes my 'top 10' list of travel "musts".) The tuk tuks are cheap - usually about 100 rupees for a fairly long ride. That's about $2.50 US. Much cheaper than NYC or even Madison!

I hope you all are well. Thanks to everyone who has made this trip possible for us. I look forward to seeing your beautiful faces soon. And I won't mind the snow, the endless Christmas displays (there are none in India) and the kitchy Christmas music because ... there truly is "no place like home".

Namaste,

Donna

Pawan

(Photos compliments of Christine and Mindy)

Meet Pawan, our tailor in Majnu Ka Tilla, Delhi.

I first met Pawan several years ago when we took a group of Buddhist meditators on pilgrimage to India. We went to the fabric shop just down the alley, bought fabric, and then ordered chuba dresses, robes and other items from the tailor at his little stand, only just as wide as his sign.

So with requests from my entire Sangha, it was with great enthusiasm that I went to order fabric for tailoring in the week before our AY group arrived. Yeshe went with me to help translate at both the fabric shop and the tailor. Remembering me from before (and the immense amount of fabric my group bought), the fabric vendor ordered chai as we sat and sifted through endless choices of maroon and gold fabrics. As part of selecting fabrics, the tailor is called in to measure or review measurements and tell the fabric man more precisely how much fabric you will need.

Having called for measurements, it was there at the shop I first saw the tailor Pawan again. His intent look and slight smile, he tells the fabric man that he remembers me from the last time I was there. He waits patiently in silence, a soft but intent look remaining on his face, watching the fabric transactions and occasionally calculating and calling out the amount of fabric needed. Towards the end, he silently slips away back to his shop to work and await my arrival.

Loaded with five heavy bags of fabric, splitting at the seams, I arrive at the tailor. The first set of fabric is Tsering's set, half-chuba, shenthap, ngulen .... we discuss how long the shenthap should be and he marks up a receipt. The air begins to get chilly as the sun moved a bit further down in the sky. At 5 PM it is not dark, but the sun is definitely on its way to set.

Unexpectedly, a drunk woman stumbles by, mumbling. People around her raise their voices in a loud exclamation. And off in the distance I hear shouting. Shouting, shouting, shouting. I turn to look at the drunk woman, thinking she is the cause of all the commotion. But she is now sitting quietly. I look back at the tailor, but he is no longer behind the desk. I look around and see him running down the street....disappearing into a narrow alley.

I turn to Yeshe, who is wearing a blank puzzled look. This is the first time I've seen her soft eyes without a smile. She tells me people are shouting that a small girl has fallen from a second story balcony, and no one is doing anything about it. They are all just staring at her. A small boy comes running, shouting for someone to help his sister. They tell the boy that Pawan has already left, and he retreats. It suddenly becomes clear that the small girl is actually Pawan's daughter.

I have emergency responder training, so I ask Yeshe to find out where the girl is, but no one seems to know. We stow our fabrics behind the desk and seek more information up and down the street, but no one knows anything more. So we return to the desk and stand blankly for a moment. I am thinking of what I can do, how I can help. There seems to be nothing I can do to help Pawan or his daughter because we hear he is already in a car on the way to the hospital.

But then I remember that I can say prayers -- a kind of energetic healing prayers. So I ask the name of his daughter, which is Kiritika. And then through Yeshe I tell the staff at the desk that I will pray for Pawan's daughter.

Yeshe and I return to Wongdhen, and she departs. I go upstairs and begin prayers for Kiritika. after a while, I feel a sense of relief, as if things might turn out OK. Later, after I have finished, I write about the incident on Facebook. And without being asked, members of our Sangha also begin to do prayers.

Two days later I return for tailoring, but the shop is closed. Those around say the tailor is ill. They do not know that I have heard about his daughter. The fabric is returned to me, and have to tote it all the way to Kathmandu. No one knows how his daughter is doing. I asked yeshe before she left, but to no avail.

Three days later I return from Kathmandu and prepare to receive the group. On the first day we will go for tailoring. I take the first group around 11 AM, and we arrive as planned at the fabric shop. On the way I do not see our tailor.

Chai is ordered and thus begins the forray into the sea of choices for chuba dress, half cuba, chuba shirts, kurtas and chinese style coats. A tailor shows up to measure, but it is not our tailor. I realize he is the one associated with the fabric shop, as they sew saris in-house.

It occurs to me that the fabric man will know about Pawan, and so I ask him. Happy news. He says the tailor is on the way, and the daughter is much better. Just then Pawan shows up to measure for chuba dress. I excitedly ask him about his daughter. In a reserved way, he responds that she is doing well and turns to help with the fabric. With those same intent eyes he watches the fabric being selected, quietly measuring when needed and then retreating to his shop to wait for our group.

We finish our selections and stop by the shop to be measured. Each person goes one at a time, our orders being placed carefully so that a friend can pick them up and deliver them to us in Dharamsala. The orders take quite some time -- there are many.

At some point, Pawan makes a motion and softly exclaims something to one of his employees. A stool appears and is wiped down carefully. Pawan offers it to me. I sit down, watching the tailor measure each member of the group. As the line dwindles, I send for our second group of shoppers for the day. The first group departs, and I am left resting on the stool at the tailors.

He looks at me directly for the first time since the accident -- a smile in his eyes added to that same intent look. And he begins to tell me all about his daughter's accident. How he ran to her and swooped her into a taxi. How the first and second hospitals did not have a doctor available. How it took him most of the night to find a doctor. And how it took almost two days for her to begin to recover. And how now she was just fine. Then he thanked me for praying for his daughter.

And then Pawan smiled a big proud smile and told me of his Nepali wife Asha, and son Pankaj, and his daughter Kiritika. He showed me pictures of his children and wife. He said thank you again. That was when I knew that something really special had happened. A stranger to him, a westerner, had offered to pray for his daughter. And it had touched him more than I imagined.

He offered to order tea but I wanted to wait since I would shortly depart for the fabric store. Our second group arrived, and I repeated the same process as earlier. I took them to the fabric store and then to the tailor for measuring.  I never did have time for that cup of tea. The measuring did not take much time, and we departed rather quickly, as I was behind schedule for the next activity.

When we returned from our two week trip, I saw Pawan one more time. I took a group for tailoring because we were not able to get sewing in Jaipur. Out came the stools for our group, a seemingly rare occurrence that was becoming uncommonly familiar. With great delight I accepted his offer of tea, instinctively knowing this would complete the circle of caring for each other. We drank tea and smiled as he worked his way through piles of kurta fabric, taking measurements and making receipts. A uncommonly common day.

Before I left, I asked him to write the names of his entire family, correctly, for me. I look forward to seeing him when we return to India.

OMG... Oh my God!!! Jaipur.....

Hi all,

OMG... Oh my God!!! Jaipur is everything that you think of when you think of India. The city was built in the 1700's according to ayurvedic and astrologic principles. It was one of the first planned cities, built on a grid pattern with 9 quadrants corresponding to the 9 planets (Pluto was still in the club then). We visited the Hawa Mahal this morning, the staging grounds for royal processions and celebrations during the 1700 -1800's. It was stunningly beautiful architecture, reminiscent of the moorish influences in Morocco. The Mughal dynasty, builders of the Hawa Mahal, must have been moslem, because the doorways are arched and the windows are screened in a diamond pattern to allow the women of the court to look at the processions without being seen by the men below (God forbid...). The plaster walls are all colored a salmon pink, creamy yellow and a gentle orange, all made with vegetable and fruit dyes.

So that was the beautiful side of Jaipur. The down side is the noise, the trash all over the streets and sidewalks, the dirt everywhere, and for the first time, the beggar children. These barefoot little waifs follow you everywhere, with their hands outstretched, begging for 10 or 20 rupees (about 50 cents). They are persistent, filthy and dressed in rags 2 sizes too big. They are professional in their begging and I feel a combination of sadness and disgust at the same time. We have been warned not to give to the children until the last day, otherwise we will be mobbed by them.

Ah, India, there is so much this government should be doing for its people. Indians that we have talked to in the airports and restaurants say that graft and corruption takes most of the money away from the neediest persons in this country. There are no pulblic trash collection services, no public road management agencies and no safety net like Medical Assistance or Medicare for the poor. Children don't attend school because even public schools charge fees that the families can't afford. School uniforms are expensive and so many families keep their children out of school and send them to beg. Honestly, Slumdog Millionaire isn't far from the truth.

As we were visiting the tailors, a young boy, maybe 11 years old, followed us and became our assistant guide, showing us shops that we wouldn't have found otherwise. This young boy was obviously bright and very friendly and I couldn't help thinking how successful he could be if he attended school. He has learned to live by his wits and his assertiveness, even stopping 2 lanes of traffic with his skinny little arms to help us cross a busy road.

4 hours in Jaipur feels like a week. I am exhausted tonight - exhausted by the sounds, the poverty and the sheer enormity of the difficulties here. But I must say that the Indians look happy - they laugh and tease each other, they haggle over purchases and seem to go about their lives with a sort of acceptance. The bobble head reply, where Indians sort of wag/wobble their heads back and forth, conveys their sense of "yes, that's life... ok, no, and it's all ok". I'm practicing my bobble head so I can use it with my kids. "Mom, can I borrow some money?"... "Mom, can I borrow your car, mine is out of gas?"... I see the benefits of perfecting this Indian art...

Donna

Jaipur - capital of Rajasthan

We flew into Jaipur's beautiful, modern airport after a day of rest at the Delhi airport. We took taxis to our hotel and ordered an Indian buffet for our dinner. The rooms are really quaint here at the Jaipur Inn with colorful decor and furnishings all with the traditional motifs of Rajasthan.

We've been busy visiting temples, palaces, and many shops (Jaipur is a shoppers delight known for its gem stones, textiles, ceramics, etc.). The highlight for me was visiting Jantar Mantar - an architectural wonder filled with large stone sundials and astrological instruments. It looks like a modern sculpture garden but from the 15th or 16th century.

Tonight the hotel owner had a bonfire for us on the rooftop terrace and we drank some pretty bad (but expensive!) red wine and India's beer of choice - Kingfisher. Weddings processions in the streets below were happening all around us with festive marching bands, dancing, and even elephants carrying the groom. Fireworks displays were going off all night as it is the wedding season here in India.




Tomorrow we leave at 6 am for Agra to see the Taj Mahal and then we push on for our last day and night in Delhi.

~Leane

Thinking of You All!

I'm writing this from the Van Galder bus enroute to Madison.

What an amazing trip - I feel incredibly fortunate to have shared this experience with you all!

See you soon,

Scott

Sunrise over Jaipur, Sunset in Madison

First of all, hello all, and I hope you are enjoying reading the posts that are popping up. Love and miss, Kelly

Our hotel in Jaipur, The Jaipur Inn, is a welcome retreat for us in this bustling city of 3 million people. The owner of the hotel is a lovely gentleman Mr. Pushpendre who designed and built Jaipur Inn in 1974 from its modest beginnings as a campground where typically American and European travelers stayed, kept warm by a bonfire lit each night. Our group of travelers enjoyed this same hospitality with a bonfire on the rooftop yesterday evening hosted by Mr. Pushpendre and his son who now manages the hotel. His son, Pushpedre Bhargava, in addition to running smoothly the Jaipur Inn, is also an avid runner and hiker and our group was invited to join him on a sunrise walk to take in an extraordinary view of the city waking up. My reflections on this follow:

Sunrise over Jaipur Inn: At 6am we gathered in the quiet and unlit lobby, some bleary eyed but awake with anticipation. Mr. Pushpendra arrived ready to walk, earbuds and jogging suit clad. With a gracious invitation to join him, or rather, follow him (he is a fit man with a quick pace) through the streets neighboring the hotel leading to a view of the sun rising over Jaipur from Tiger Fort. After several days in India we are more accustomed to the mayhem of vehicular traffice here. However, on foot, in the dark at this early hour we find that even the bicylists do not wear lights! We come to an inersection and here Mr. Pushpendre slows his gait as each member of our group catches up. A new pace begins with his explanation that now we are about to see the "real Jaipur" away from the commercialism. "Here is where people live and work and pray", he says, gesturing towards hundred years old houses while pigs, cows, and dogs are wandering by. In these streets I wonder if people are still sleeping or if they are moving about without electricity as all is still dark and quiet now at 6:30am? We reach the fort and rather than climbing a rocky trail we step onto a steep stone-paved ramp lifting us out of the neighborhoods and towards the ramparts and towers of Tiger Fort. A steady climb worth every step we caught the sun on its way up and began to hear the sounds of Jaipur...the muslim call to prayer, school children in recitation on a rooftop, ubiquitous honking beeping, and the swish, sweep sweep as people ready their storefronts for the first customer of the day.

Monday

Monday- Jaipur- Two Indian boys, our street guide and the boy with the kite- two Indian Families- The Bangalore tourists and groom's sisters.

The day started with a bus excursion to a palace in the Pink City. Getting in the door required moving past begging children holding littler children, and saying no to adults hawking everything from postcards to mini-disk drives. Palace tour completed, we moved on to attempting to buy fabric for "India Dress" for maybe 10 American women. At the first stop we shopped our way through an enormous inventory of India tie dies- with the ties still stitched in. Ripping apart the tissue thin cotton layers revealed patterns that in no way resemble hippy style tie dye. Nearly all of us purchased fabrics before we understood that tailoring was not available. No worries- on to store B for a tailor and perhaps more fabrics. More fabrics were purchased and clothing was stitched from fabrics purchased in that store, but the fabric from the first store could not be accommodated.

Now is a good time to mention Dawa-our Tibetan guide who has leant new meaning to the definition of multi-tasking. Along with our Madison team of Pema, Scott and Pam, he has been juggling the bus drives, potty breaks, special requests and needs of about twenty westerners, all with a wonderful smile and centered energy. Today the first requirement was to snag a local guide who could help us navigate the streets and bizarres of Jaipur. The guide Dawa found for us was a twelve year old boy- with the street smarts of an a adult and the charm of a young boy. Think of the young boy in Slumdog Millionaire. He talked with shop keepers to find us everything from fabric stores to toilets, and took off to scout out tailors, returning with a plan. But when our gaggle of American women appeared at the tailor's door- he blanched at the size of our delegation and sent us away. The next half hour saw us snaking through dusty, oppressive narrow streets filled with cows, pigs, dogs, thousands of scooters and rickshaws. There were lots of tailors, but none would take us on. Hungry and shopped- out we tipped our young guide, not nearly enough, I think as I make the conversion to dollars, and bid him goodbye. As we hopped on motor- rickshaws- ta ta's and headed to the refuge of our lovely inn I though about how guiding a group of American moms made it a very good day for him in a life that requires every ounce of cleverness he can muster to every day- just to get by.

At the hotel there is a beautiful roof-top garden with a panoramic view where Bruce and I took tea and chatted with a few of our fellow travellers. We see a peacock in the garden below. We notice thousands of flitting birds in the afternoon breeze, and looking closer, see the the birds are actually thousands of little kites. We look below to a roof top where a young teenage boy is launching a small tissue paper kite. He engages our attention and starts aerial acrobatics with his kite- swooping it just over our head on the roof top, and ultimately snagging it on our balcony. When we say we'll bring it down to him- he jesters and maybe shouts up- it's a gift for you! I wonder if this is what young boys do instead of playing video games when they get home from school. Later I learn that there are kite flying competitions in January and that the boys are beginning to practice now.

It having been a busy day already, and Bruce just getting over India tummy trouble- we decide to stay in for the evening. We are sitting in the lobby when an Indian family wafts into the room. Leading the entourage is a garrulousness young woman who approaches me immediately and asks if I want to have mehindi (Henna painting) done. "Yes yes yes" I reply this being on my India wish-list. "Oh wonderful" she exclaims- "just join us in the lobby at 10:'00 then!" Then they whirl out of the hotel to go off to shop until 10:00. Later I learn that they all fly up from Bangalore to shop and get henna done- maybe once a year- just on a lark. Cool, I think- something more than dinner is in store for the evening.

Next think we know there is a huge clamouring racket on the street- some sort of parade is passing by. We run to the circle in front of our hotel and see a huge procession complete with a brass band and drums. At the rear of the procession is an elephant topped by three elegantly dressed men- an older man a younger man and a child. This is a wedding procession for the groom. I trip down the street recording the procession and come across an SUV. The windows roll down, and inside are three Indian women dressed to the nines- no, tens, in wedding finery. The are dripping with elegant gold bangles, necklaces and earrings over their scarlet jewel encrusted saris. These are the sisters of the groom- and they INSIST that we join them at the wedding, about a half block away. We demure that we are not dressed for a wedding- they say no- please, come as you are- it would be our honour. After returning to the hotel and pondering whether or not we should go to the wedding- about six of us decided to just check it out.

The outdoor setting is lavish beyond what I could imagine. The are hundreds of guests, endless banquet tables- and people begin to greet us warmly and draw us up to where the young people are dancing. Clusters of young boys come up to me, wanting me to take their pictures and maybe want to see my blonde hair too. Then the groom's sisters greet us and draw us deeper into the festivities. They could not be more gracious. I ask one sister if her wedding was this grand, and without missing a beat, she says " It was twice as grand." And I don't think she meant it as hyperbole. I asked what her father does- reply: investment banker. So maybe it was twice as grand.

Looking at my watch, I see I'm already a half hour late for my henna date. Returning to the hotel, the Mehindi party is in full sway. Two men are apply the henna paste from little bags that looked like cake decorating bags. They pull me, Sharon, Mindi and even Bruce into the action. I get full arm and hand hennas, while the rest go for one hand only. We enjoy talking to the sisters, young brother, mom and dad as the eat dinner and watch the henna party progress. They laugh at Bruce breaking the henna gender barrier, while egging him on to get his hand done. Bruce has a manly fish motif on the hand side, and the usual floral pattern on palm. By midnight we all return to our rooms with mud encrusted arms, wondering how you sleep with this stuff on. In the morning our most indelible Indian souvenirs are revealed.

Hello from Jaipur

Hi to all my friends and family from Jaipur! We are fine and having a great time. Went to some 16th and 17 century palaces yesterday and the day before, and rode both a camel and an elephant.

I'm shocked really at how little is changed over the last 30 plus years. Still the hustlers and beggars in the bazaars, still the amazing 10 deep traffic in the roundabouts, you swear people around you are about to crash but some how you don't. People are incredibly warm and polite. If anything has changed it is the sense that India is less downtrodden, prosperity and pride in being Indian are rising. It's a good change for them.

More India!

Namaste! We have left the "Tibetan experience" of our trip after having had many adventures in northern India. We listened to the teachings of the Dalai Lama, visited the Tibetan Children's Village (started by the Dalai Lama's sister years ago) where Tibetan orphans - sent to India by their families from China- live, go to school and are nurtured in a loving environment where the Tibetan traditions are preserved. We stopped at the Norbulingka (sp?) Institute beyond that on our way to Lake Rewalsar. The Institute is a beautiful compound which aim is to train Tibetan students and interns in the Tibetan arts of thangka painting, silk screening, stone carving, wood working, applique, etc. We had an incredible lunch there which fortified us for the very long bus trip through the mountains. We arrived in Rewalsar after having been on the bus for close to 10 hours which was made passable through the help of Zofran and This American Life (thanks, Steve!). Dana (my rommate throughout the trip, my bus buddy, and my now very good friend- has helped make this trip a real joy and we have whiled away many hours talking and sharing stories about our previous travel experiences, and Dana's info about India (she spent a year here studying many years ago). We find a lot of the same things funny and sometimes hysterical - I have not laughed this much in a long time.

We went to bed that night wondering why we left the cozy comforts of Dharamsala for the cold, inhospitable rooms of the Lotus Lake Inn. But, we woke up to the sights and sounds of this sleepy town and discovered how blessed we were to be here! Pema lead a traditional kora around the lake where you pray or say a mantra. We walked around the lake as the the enormous statue of Padmasambhava (the guru who spread buddhism to Tibet I think) towered over us from a nearby monastery. Later we hiked up the foothills of the Himalayas to visit the meditation caves and experience the quiet vibrations of this holy site.

We moved on to Chandigarh in the state of Punjab the next morning with full hearts and bellies -from the great food at the Kora Cafe - (I won't soon forget the handsome owner in his brown corduroy blazer). We arrived late that night at the Park View Hotel and happily discovered the best bathroom to date! The next morning half of the group got up to take the bus for another 14 hours to Jaipur and the rest of us left for the shiny, brand new Indira Gandhi airport in Delhi. We spent a good part of the day there luxuriating in the shops, eating ice cream, browsing in the gift shops. The domestic flights in India are pretty low-key overall (*with full body searches) - you can bring water on the plane, but no ski poles, hockey sticks, knives (if you are Sikh you are able to carry on swords but ones no bigger than with 6 inch blades and 3 inch handles). I met a man in line who I ended up sitting across from on the flight. He was a colonel in the Indian Army and we had deep discussion about yoga, Sikhism, and God. It really hit me then that this is why one travels and goes through the difficult parts of travel with all the illnesses and inconveniences. Your heart really does expand through these sometimes very brief, but unforgettable connections.

I love and miss you all - especially Steve, Franny, Sylvie, Esme, and Clover!

~Leane

Visiting the meditation caves of Tso Pema

Several days past our time in Rewalsar/Tso Pema I am finally putting some words together to attempt to describe a most extraordinary place and experience.
-Kelly

Tso Pema is Lotus Lake, located in a small town called Rewalsar. Each morning and afternoon, residents and visitors walk mindfully around the lake three times as an intentional positive action for the sake of all sentient beings in the context of a Tibetan Buddhist practice called Kora. Men, women of all ages, walking at various paces participate in this twice daily ritual, some in quiet contemplation, others chatting, still others stopping to feed the hungry carp and birds of the lake. The lake sits in a valley and high upon the mountain ridge are centuries old caves in which monks and nuns reside in hermitage meditating. We were able to visit these caves. As I sat in the first, larger cave, I watched devout Tibetans enter carrying shining white scarves to toss up and onto the altar. Plates rest on the altar decorated with mala beads, rupee notes, coins and other devotional objects. We sit on cushions provided by a young nun, or ani. It is easy to meditate here and we sit for several minutes together as a group. Eventually we leave the caves and walk out onto the sunny terrace, reclaiming our shoes and gratefully receiving a warm cup of chai from one of the nuns.

Unmentioned so far, but unforgettable is the hike from the Lotus Lake up to the meditation caves. The hike was steady and steep upon paved and natural rock steps leading from valley to ridge crossing two roads along the way. Buses, and small taxis concurrently ferrying people up and down who choose not to walk. The beginning of the walk led to the gigantic hillside temple statue of Guru Padmasambava. We stopped to take in this intricately and brightly painted stupa briefly, but long enough to peel off many of the irrelevant layers that we wore. From here steps led through dwellings with families out doing wash calling to one another, etc. Many children were on their way down the path hopping like billy goats from rock to rock on their way to school in town. Many carried tiffins or what looked like large milk pails possibly carrying curds (yogurt) to share. All were bright eyed and we happily exchanged "namaste" and "hello", some children greeting us quickly and moving past, others with a giggle, a few with lingering eyes. The climb rewarded us with a mountain view I have never imagined: layers upon layers of ridges and behind them the faint suggestion of farther northern peaks of the Himalayans. What to any reasonable human eye looked to be a bank of clouds forming the horizon was nothing less than a higher yet ridge of the earth's precipice! As mist rolled in, the valley basin became a bowl of clouds when stirred slowly would fold soft peaks lifting people and prayers up and over.

Elephants in Jaipur

A quick post before leaving for dinner.

FYI my two little boys, and all friends reading: today I rode an elephant. Last night a wedding party danced through the streets leading to our hotel. 100 people all dressed up, the groom and his father riding in a box on an elephant's back, drumming, men carrying huge lanterns (powered by a generated being peddled by a bike rickshaw behind the elephant), and fireworks - found out at breakfast that two people in our group had been invited (on the sidewalk) to join the wedding party and were there dancing, eating, drinking until 3am!

Went shopping today for jewelry and had another nail biting autorickshaw ride with an Obama loving Jaipur man. I have been making movies from my seat on those rides and I am grateful that those who know and love me are not witnessing me riding in real time these contraptions through the mahem of traffic in Jaipur. WHEEEE. More curry, more chai and the ubiquitous "omelette" breakfast keeps me going, as well as a firm foundation created by 7am yoga on the terrace.

If it's Tuesday this must be Jaipur!

First I must issue a disclaimer: there is no possible way I can accurately describe all of the amazing experiences I have had since I embarked on my India journey. Having said that I will try to give a brief update on some of the adventures.

Today is our second day in Jaipur. What a contrast from the calm, meditative atmosphere of the Tibetan villages in the foothills of the Himalayans! On Saturday we left the magical city of Tso Pema (Lake Rewalser) and had a somewhat harrowing bus ride along winding, narrow, mountain switchbacks. Hats off to our skillful bus driver who delivered us safely to Chandigarth where we spent the night. On Sunday morning our group hit the road again. Some opted to fly and others of took the bus. I chose to ride the bus so I could take in the sights along the roads and highways as we traveled south from Himachal Pradesh to the city of Jaipur in Rahjastan.

Along the way we stopped and had lunch at a restaurant that advertised it serves "hygienic" food, and for the most part, there was truth in advertising. The predominantly Hindu city of Jaipur is 180 degrees opposite of the sublime and spiritual Tibetan colonies of the north. The frenetic atmosphere of the Pink City, Jaipur, is a colorful, carnivalesque cacaphony of sights, smells, and sounds bombarding the senses.

Yesterday was an unbelivable day. We toured the Hawa Mahal (Wind Palace) in the morning. Then a few friends and I visited a Gem shop and were invited to have dinner with the charming family of the shop owner. We had a first hand experience of the fabled Indian hospitality as they opened their home to us and served us the most tasty meal of dahl, pompadom, chapatis, rice, and a vegetable dish with cauliflower (aloo ?). When I got back to our hotel, Beth shared that she was invited to attend a wedding that was taking place near by. Earlier in the day she had observed the wedding procession, the groom was riding a top an elephant making his way to the festivities. Needless to say I had to tag along. The groom's family was more than gracious and welcomed our ragtag group of wedding crashers to their party. This was a huge affair including fireworks. The groom's younger sister insisted that we come dance with them. We obliged and had the best of times. Many of the adorable children approached us and posed for pictures.

We had to tear ourselves away from the party, as Beth had yet another Indian experience in store for us. Back at the hotel we received Mehendi henna designs stained on our hands.

I could hardly sleep last night after all of the stimulating experiences of my day.
I suppose I should end this post now. I could go on and on but I think I should take a brief rest before our next excursion.

Namaste,

Mindy

I'm losing track of the days/dates

Hi all,

I'm losing track of the days/dates, which is a sign of how India takes over your mind. I think today is Sunday, which means that yesterday we left Rewalsar on a 6 hour bus trip to Chandigahr, south of Rewalsar and on the way bck to Delhi. However, in India you can just about count on doubling every estimated trip time and true to the equation, the trip from Rewalsar took 12 hours. It didn't help that the bus driver thought he remembered a "short cut" that turned out to be a single lane road, with potholes the size of houses and an endless stream of diesel lorries (trucks for those of you non-Brits) kicking up dust that filmed over everything in and out of the bus. The worst part was that the single lane road was bordered by drop offs of 500 - 1,000 ft, with no shoulder and of course no parachute. It is truly miraculous to watch these drivers maneuver around each other trying not to catch their tires on the soft sand edge or scrape the inner edge of rock on the other side. I prefer to close my eyes and imagine the green rolling hills of Wisonsin. The lorries are another story. Each one is painted in brilliant oranges, reds, blues and yellows with diamond and paisley designs. A statue of the goddess Shiva or another Hindu god is usually mounted on the roof of the lorry, right above the windshield and the windshields are painted around the edges to make them look like eyes. They are a little creepy looking at night. Most cars/trucks run on diesel fuel and the air pollution is insane here.

Rewalsar was cold at night but sunny and warm during the day. We climbed a mountain path to some meditation caves where we sat in silence for about 20 minutes in front of a 12 ft., gilt statue of a Buddist monk. It was an amazing experience to meditate in caves where Buddist monastics have prayed and meditated for the past one thousand or so years. The floors were marble, the walls rock and the altar was lit with Christmas lights that blinked and twinkled. An interesting juxtaposition. The Tibetan people mostly inhabit Rewalsar and have these dark, smooth, long faces with high cheekbones and dark, almond shaped eyes. They are a most beautiful people, quiet, kind and surprisingly cheerful given that they have little heat, no running water and no t.v.'s! I couldn't help but take many pictures of wrinkled elders and sweet children. Little ones are never unattended, an adult or older sibling nearby. The smallest ones are passed from hip to hip and seem comfortable with their many 'mothers' and 'fathers'. It is a truly village that is raising its children.

We left Rewalsar at 11 am and arrived in Chandigarh at about 11 pm after stopping a few times to eat and use the Indian toilets ( euphemism for hole in the ground). We have all become very cavalier about using these primitive potties and have learned to pack a roll of toilet paper in our carry on luggage. It's a rare outhouse that has toilet paper or running water. We awoke this morning, took taxis to the airport and flew to Delhi and shock of shocks - the plane left on time, was clean, had t.p. in the bathrooms and was heated. Wowza! In Delhi we helped Marty get his ticket/boarding pass and said our sad farewells at about 4pm for our short hop to Jaipur in Rajasthan. Rajasthan is on the edge of the Rajasthani desert and the people here dress with more sparkles and bangles than you'd think possible. Our agenda for the next few days is to see the Palace, some museums, a Jains temple and of course, ride an elephant. Elephants are used as work animals here and can be seen on construction sites and road building projects. We're told that there are monkeys here too, a prospect that I'm not wild about. My last day in Rewalsar was memorable for 2 monkey ambushes, or so it felt to me. They were chasing each other making some pretty mad sounds and surprised me by jumping up a wall a foot from where I was walking. This was the closest I came to having a heart attack.

Donna

Yeshe, the smiling face at Wongdhen

Thinking back to the many wonderful events in our trip, this is the first year that faces have stood out as much to me as our experiences in the holy places. As a result, I would like to introduce you to some of our new friends. If you would like an email pal please let me know. I think some of these folks might enjoy corresponding and practicing English.

Yeshe

The first time I saw her she was smiling. Who knows if the corners of her lips turned up or not, but the smile was deep in the waters of her eyes. So deep it seemed to come from the very core of her being. Over the next few days, her soft smiling expression rarely changed, although sometimes that smile was obvious on her lips and in the creases next to her eyes.

Of course she had the smile that makes one take notice, but there was more. Ever-cheerful, she got us a private car, directions, money changers, anything we needed she had some answer for.

One day, she offered to take me to the tailors after work. And we had a good laugh that she almost forgot. At the tailors, she was surprised to discover I was ordering clothes for an entire Sangha. She patiently helped me choose between sixteen colors of maroon and twelve colors of gold, six weights of cotton and terry-cot blend.

During the walk and in between fabrics I learned that she used to live elsewhere, where she was a hair stylist. She recently came to Delhi, her dream to save enough money to go to Europe to a famous hair styling school and then to get a job in Europe or the states. I figure if she goes then she would end up in New York or Paris or Milano in the fashion industry. I was happy to hear her uncle would pay for half, leaving her to raise funds only for the other half.

Our trip the the tailor ended suddenly and on a sad note, as his daughter had fallen and he disappeared. It all turned out OK later, but that day Yeshe and I were left standing at the desk with no good news and concerned faces. We returned to Wongdhen house and she departed for her cousin's.

Every time I saw Yeshe at the desk I was happy. I am not sure what qualities were so resonate, but I just felt at home every time I saw her. We left her a special big tip before we left for Nepal, and I also gave her chocolate and a Kind Bar. I wonder if she liked it -- I did not have time to ask.

When we came back from Nepal, on the day of the arrival of the whole group, there was a mix-up with our rooms (not her fault) and we ended up having to split the group between two hotels. Keep in mind that the later in the day you check in, the less likely you are to get the rooms you wanted, as people are never sure if you are actually going to show up. But on the third visit to Wondgdhen house, even arriving at 9 PM, everything was back in order. And Yeshe told me with a proud smile that she had made every effort during the day to hold the rooms correctly.

One thing about India is that almost everyone aspires to go somewhere and learn something. I hope that Yeshe gets the chance to study in Europe. She deserves it.

(Yeshe is pronounced yee shee, high in your front teeth)

Jaipur!

We're back in India's India. In the North, the infusion of Tibetan Buddhist culture heavily influences the experience. In the Rajasthan state, we're back in the heart of Hindu and Muslim India.

Several of us went to the fabled Neel Gems, and walked out of there with significantly fewer rupees in our pockets. Beautiful, and fascinating (anyone else from this trip care to share your experience?)

Today is my last full day in India, though the rest of the crew is here a few more days. To those reading back home, I plan to teach my Thursday class at the BMDC.

Best Wishes,

Scott

India - third post

Hi all,

I woke up this morning to 9 monkeys sitting on the roof about 10 ft. from our hotel window. I think they are rhesus monkeys and we have been well educated on monkey etiquette here in India. Don't feed them, don't get within 10 ft of them, and don't look them in the eye because this is a sign of aggression and they will charge you. So instead, we try to take pictures sideways, looking but not looking, and hoping that they don't move away too fast. Monkeys, dogs and cows walk around wild in India. The dogs are ok during the day but at night they make such a fuss that I sleep with earplugs. Cows graze everywhere and are loathe to get out of the middle of the road, which is already very narrow and usually bordered by a steep drop-off (like about 1,000 ft). So it's a game of chicken or 'cow', as the case may be.

Yesterday we left Dharamsala on another seemingly endless bus ride through the mountains, down roads too narrow for our bus and another car to pass comfortably. A 90 mile ride took us 10 hours. Yes, 10 hours. Getting around in India is an exercise in patience and endless napping. We can't seem to get anywhere in under 10 hours. Tomorrow we drive to Chandigarh, a trip that should take us about 2 hours but will undoubtedly take us 6 or 7. We arrived in Rewalsar, a Buddist holy place, about 8:30 pm cold and hungry, only to find the hotel had no heat, not in the rooms and not in the dining room, nowhere. None of the Indian hotels have have heat. None of them. And in the mountains it was about 28 degrees F last night. Marty and I went to bed with our pants, woolen socks, long underwear, fleece jackets, hats and gloves. We slept to the endless cacauphony of packs of barking dogs and woke to the shrieks of monkeys next door. India is not a quiet place.

I've decided that the 5 most important items to bring with you to India are PATIENCE, earplugs, at least one roll of toilet paper (the bathrooms don't come with it), a heater, and a filtration mask. Wet wipes are also a good idea. India is amazing but it is also dirty, noisy and never seems to sleep. Also helpful are pillow encasers (the kind people with asthma use) (the pillows in India are grisly and quite disgusting) and a sleep sack. I have more 'must haves' but I'll talk about those later.

Tomorrow we travel to Chandigarh, spend the night and then fly to Delhi in the morning. From Delhi, we fly to Jaipur. Marty has decided to leave us in Delhi and fly home. He has had enough of India, "thank you very much!" Not his 'cup of tea'. Frankly, I don't blame him. Even though the cancellation/rebooking penalty was hefty, he had no hesitation about paying it. He is done! So you all will see him Sunday, Dec. 6. He'll bus it to Madison from Chicago and probably arrive Sunday around noon - 2pm. I will stay on for the second week. I'm hoping that we are through the worst. At least Jaipur should be warmer than the mountains, although I'll have to break out my filtration mask again.

I miss everyone. Nothing like a trip to a far away land to make you appreciate home. There's no place like home..... There's no place like home..... (who stole my ruby slippers?!).

Donna

Day 2 in the Himalayan foothills

Hi all,

Day 2 in Dharmsala in the Himalayan foothills. We spent this morning in meditation and prayer with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama and about a thousand people from all over Asia. To say that I was moved is an understatement. HH spoke on karma (actions) and selflessness and discussed some very basic Buddist texts. Hearing these ideas while sitting cross-legged among a thousand others, equally intent on understanding and practicing the the ideas, was to experience the dissolution of cultural and national boundaries. The entire hall was intent on learning together and the sense of "self" was transformed into a sense of "all are one". It was an amazing experience - still hard to describe.

Although HH was speaking in Tibetan, we heard transalations through our little Walgreen FM radios. We were sitting on mats among the Vietnamese Buddist delegation and were able to see His Holiness on the big screen t.v. just in front of us. Unfortunately, we did not find spots in the main room, which was very small and mostly reserved for the Russian Buddists. Next to us were pilgrims from Spain, Cambodia, Bhutan, and a sprinkling of fairly caucasian faces from Europe. Monks in saffron and paprika colored robes were everywhere, seemingly impervious to the morning chill in their mostly bare feet and shaved heads. About an hour into the 3 hour teaching, the monks served Tibetan bread (a lot like very big English muffins) and Tibetan tea (a brew of yak butter/milk and tea) from giant, silver tea urns that they carried throughout the hall. Pilgrims passed cups up and back to the monks, with the cups surprisingly finding their rightful owners in the mass of seated people. Marty was not very fond of the yak tea, it had a decidedly gamey taste to it.

Tomorrow I will return to HH's teaching and in the afternoon we tour the Tibetan Children's Village, a boarding school for Tibetan children from ages 12-18y) and a tea plantation. Thursday we leave at noon, stop at Norbilingka Institute (a Buddist teaching center) and then drive to Chandgarh) (oh no.... the bus.... again). No other way out of Dharmsala, no planes or trains could make it up these mountain curves and narrow roads. Talk to everyone soon. Thanks for checking in on Ben.

Donna and Marty

Tsepel from Middle Path

Tsepel is a little bit punk rock, but not a lot. For instance, she doesn't like punk music -- prefers relaxing music in fact. We met her in Dharamsala, where she lives with (Mr. Tinley's sister in law?) the prime minister elect for the Tibetan Government. Tsepel works for Middle Path, speaking Chinese, Tibetan, English and Hindi. She is a photographer. Working for Middle Path is a "side job."

After an overnight bus ride, arrival at 11 AM, Tsepel helped me go directly to the temple to secure group seating for the teachings of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. It was not easy, as the area was already packed, and it ended up taking us until 3 PM. I was quite tired and sick by the time we were done, and abruptly handed her over to "Mr. Scott" to finish planning errands while I went to rest in my room next door. She took it in stride.

Later, she took Mr. Scott on her friend Pema's small motorcycle to buy 7 electric heaters for our trip to Tso Pema, and she and Scott rode back on that same motorcycle carrying all seven heaters.

Tsepel went with us to Norbulinka Art Institute, and she is pictured above receiving a yoga adjustment from Scott.

Tea!

Though the tea plantations are closed for the season, we were not deterred in our quest to procure genuine Kangra Valley tea.

The Kangra Valley is downhill from Dharamsala, and is a microclimate that produces some great teas. I first had a cup of Kangra Valley tea during my last trip to Dharamsala in August of '09, and that cup of tea rocked my world.

We asked our uber-capable guide, Dawa, to find a source of Kangra tea in Dharamsala, and sure enough, he did. Many of us staggered out of that store under the weight (OK - so it really wasn't much weight, though it was bulky) of our treasured tea. Perhaps some of you will enjoy Kangra Valley tea this Winter?

To those back home, you're definitely in our thoughts!

Namaste,

Scott

Dreamy in Dharamsala

Hello All,

We arrived in Dharamsala on Monday. Highlights include: the mountains are so beautiful as are the Tibetan people. Went to teachings with His Holiness the Dalai Lama yesterday morning and this morning. So many Buddhist devotees from all over the world, monks and nuns dressed in maroon and yellow, Tibetan bread being tossed out to those of us seated and listening to the teachings, and cups of tea being handed from one person to the next, kind of like getting snacks at the ballpark but of course better. Can't say as I am a big fan of the Tibetan butter tea tho.

Yoga with Scott, last night seeing the sunset over the mountains as our yoga session ended.

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny afternoon. Took a hike up the mountain roads to see a Temple and a waterfall. The views are breath-taking.

To all of my friends at Care Wisconsin, you will be happy to know that I have not had any dangerous encounters with monkeys, and oh yes, the poop on the road has not been as bad as anticipated. There were a couple of sketchy bathrooms in Dehli, but no worse than some campsite outhouses.

I have been doing way too much shopping for treasures at the stands and shops lining the streets. It is hard to resist all of the beautiful handiwork. I should sign off for now, need to eat lunch before our next adventure this afternoon.

Mindy